


Dance with the Devil

by writtenbyaslytherin



Series: Kinktober 2019 [1]
Category: Priest (2011)
Genre: Angry Sex, Bottom Black Hat, Canon-Typical Violence, Gags, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Not Beta Read, Post-Canon, Small Fandom, black hat survives, i have no idea what this is, top priest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-28 22:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21144221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenbyaslytherin/pseuds/writtenbyaslytherin
Summary: After the explosion of his train, Black Hat is the only one to survive. He is left wandering the waste lands in search of shelter and food, both of which are hard to come by. On the third night since his defeat he finds himself in an abandoned nest watching a rare thunderstorm soak the barren lands. As he enjoys what might be his final night he stumbles across an old friend and a choice he never thought he would have to make again.





	Dance with the Devil

_ I believe in you, I can show you that _

_ I can see right through all your empty lies _

_ I won't stay long, in this world so wrong _

_ _ \--Dance with the Devil, Breaking Benjamin _ _

It was a dark and stormy night. One of the few truly raging storms the wastelands had ever seen. The wastelands were bleak and barren. Filled with more ancient buildings and dust than human beings. Unlike the cities where smoke and exhaust reigned supreme, out here the dust took hold of the land. But tonight it poured. A gift from God as some would say. Yet as the Old Testament states, God is vengeful as are his storms. Lightning lit up the barren landscape as if the sun peaked on the horizon for a moment before running from the monstrous roar of the thunder that followed. What few creatures lived in the wastelands scattered and hid in the various ruins and rock crevasse to escape the noise. Even the vile creatures of the night did not come out to ravage the land this night. Between the violent burst of light and pleeting rain, few were stupid enough to wander from shelter. The rain shot down from the heavens in a violent mission to penetrate the earth beneath it. Each drop bit at the land as a vampire snapped into its prey. The humans of the wastelands were safe tonight. Even the mind controlled vampires did not dare run blind into the storm where even their dullest senses were overwhelmed with the unusual rain. Save for one, a half blood more powerful than either race who rather enjoyed the storm. There were so few out here where the dry cracked land soaked up any liquid it could find. Be it blood or water. The half blood could admire that need. For he and the wastelands had much in common. Thirst. Yet each differed in that thirst. The land desired water. The half blood however, craved a single priest.

_ _ _ _

Pain resonated through Black Hat’s body as he stumbled through the dark caves. It had been three days since the train and he had yet to recover. The pure blood vampires and all of the familiars perished in either the explosion or the devastating rays of the sun leaving Black Hat to race into the Wastelands alone. It was by small chance that he escaped the worst of the explosion. At first he counted on Priest believing that he had perished along with the rest of the horde. But by day two of wandering towards the nearest outpost he knew he was wrong. That damn priest somehow knew that he had escaped. When he truly thought about it, he was not surprised. Long before Sola Mira the two were inseparable. Having an almost telepathic connection that the other priests envied. Each knew where the other was, could anticipate each other’s movements. They were the perfect killing pair. Both were always sent to lead fractions of priests on missions to wipe out hordes of vampires and turn the tide of the war. When the Church called for two men squads to eradicate smaller attacks on outposts and townships; they always sent the two of them. Never apart. It was on those two man missions where Black Hat’s faith in his vows were tested the most. Secret thoughts of what Priest felt like outside of training. Outside of combat drenched in sweat and blood. How his partner would feel in his hands as they explored every inch in the throws of passion rather than violence. Black Hat wanted more of the Priest that he called ‘brother.’ Black Hat wanted all of him in every way. Yet despite his confidence and training, confessing his desires to the Church, or worse Priest, was something that he was never prepared for. It was not until Sola Mira when Priest released him to the vampires to be devoured, did he realize just how one sided his feelings were. That pained him more than his mortal death at the hands of the Queen. 

_ _ _ _

Sucking in a deep breath, Black Hat forged on. Pulling deep into the cavern he knew so well. Despite his injuries he could smell the Priest. It was a scent that he could never forget. Priest was close. Only one hundred yards or so away if he kept staggering down the tunnel he stood in front of. It was likely that Priest knew that he was there though doubtful of his exact location. Another useful benefit of his new found vampire blood. And in his weakened state a surprise attack was necessary in defeating Priest. If he could only convince himself that Priest’s death was what he truly wanted. 

_ _ _ _

The sweet scent of rain filled his nostrils along with something else. Something familiar. Sweat, dust, blood, leather. It was him. And he was close. Silently Black Hat crept through the tunnel. A flash of light highlighting a dark figure staring out at the rain. To a human it was nothing more than a black mass. It could have been anything. A trick of the light or even the stone itself. But to his golden eyes the figure before him was as clear as midday. He could see each fold of the dark robes. The rust red mud that caked well worn boots. Each slight deviation in the standard uniform where weapons lay hidden for easy reach. Black Hat knew where each and every weapon hid. He knew the Priest as well as he knew himself. Having stripped him of those very weapons more times than he could count in training there was very little he could do to surprise him. And in his weakened state, the element of surprise was essential.

_ _ _ _

Silently he stalked forward slowly pulling his well worn belt from his hips. Wrapping each end around his hands he leapt forward on the unsuspecting Priest, catching him mid yawn. 

_ _ _ _

Despite his own tiredness, Priest was still quick on his feet. Tucking his chin down, Black Hat missed his neck catching the belt in Priest’s mouth. An advantage is an advantage and at this point Black Hat was going to take what he could get. Pulling back with what strength he had he yanked Priest back onto him until his back collided with the stone wall. 

_ _ _ _

“You’re losing focus Priest,” Black Hat snarled. “Is it that you don’t want to find me or you want to find me and let me turn you? It’s not all that bad, you know, once you get past the Church’s lies.”

_ _ _ _

“No,” Priest muttered beneath the belt.

_ _ _ _

“I never pegged you for sadistic. But watching me die twice by your hands, now that’s a cruelty that even I can’t boast.”

_ _ _ _

Rage over came Priest at Black Hat’s jab. He knew deep down, that is exactly what he wanted. To get him angry. To feed his most tempting sin. Generally speaking, if it were anyone else it would not have worked. But Black Hat was unique. They were more than brothers in arms once. Before Sola Mira Black Hat was entirely someone else. He was the sin that Priest would never speak out loud.

_ _ _ _

Throwing his head back with as much force as he could muster, he slammed into Black Hat’s head. The sound of cracking bone resonated in his ears as he was thrown into the opposite wall. Clutching his broken eye socket Black Hat snarled at his opponent.

_ _ _ _

“What was that for Priest?” he snapped baring his fangs.

_ _ _ _

“You fell Jude.”

_ _ _ _

“Don’t you dare call me that,” he snapped rushing forward to pin his former lover against the stone. “You lost that right when you let go. You abandoned me.”

_ _ _ _

“I did not abandon you.” Grabbing the sides of Jude’s face, Priest pulled him close enough to kiss. 

_ _ _ _

In his weakened state Jude could not pull away without dropping the Priest where he had him pinned up against the wall. Forced to look into those blue eyes he missed so much Jude could feel the unwelcome pain of being abandoned all over again. After everything they shared. Not just in battle but in perfectly synched movements in training, in secrets shared under the stars or in the confines of a single blanket. It was not the forbidden intimacy that Jude missed. If he wanted that he could take it when ever he pleased. It was everything that Priest was. A confidant on nights he could not sleep; when the nightmares of reality came creeping in and no weapon could drive them back. It was the trust and faith of never being left alone and abandoned as he was at birth. It was everything that had been stripped away from him the moment that Priest let go. 

_ _ _ _

“I did not abandon you,” he repeated. “You were torn from my grasp by those demonic creatures. I tried to follow you, but the others dragged me away. I hated them for that. For years I have mourned you. I thought you were dead. If I had known there was even a slight chance you survived I would have chased after you Jude. How can you not believe that?” Priest pleaded.

_ _ _ _

“I said do not call me that,” Jude snapped shoving him against the wall again hard enough to elicit a groan from his opponent. “That is not my name.”

_ _ _ _

“I called you that once. Don’t you remember? Those nights where it was just us. In the pale light of the morning sun.”

_ _ _ _

Jude remembered all too well. It was the only time they ever dared utter their given names. To be priests were to nameless, faceless shadows. Leaving nothing behind but a trail of vampiric corpses and the haunting memory of a cross tattoo. The early light of dawn was different. In those few hours they were real. No longer shadows, but lovers in the desert wasteland sharing things that were never meant to see the light of day.

_ _ _ _

“Of course I remember. How the hell could I forget? Your face was the last thing I saw before the Church abandoned me. Before you abandoned me to this.” Jude was not one to let the more feminine of emotions take over. Not since he was a child and the Bishop whipped him for crying when he broke his arm in training. He had not cried a single tear since that day. Yet standing in this cold wet cave face to face with the man who at one time meant everything to him clutching his face, he could feel the tears threatening to fall.

_ _ _ _

“I want you to come back to me Jude,” Priest stated as if making such a decision were as easy as trying to decide which confessional to use. To him it was.Since discovering Jude was alive, it was all he could think about after saving Lucy. Priest had vowed to never return to the Church. He would protect humanity on his terms. And God willing, with Jude by his side.

_ _ _ _

“How can I? You let me fall Michael. And now I am this,” Jude snapped flashing his fangs once more. 

_ _ _ _

Michael did not fear looking into Jude’s golden eyes. The dark magic that they possessed would not work on him they way that they did Lucy. He had been captivated by those eyes long before the vampires stole him away. When they were the color of rich mud gleaming with delight at a hard won battle or dark with rage at the devastation that lay before them. Michael could always tell what exactly Jude was thinking when he looked into his eyes. Now the bright golden orbs stared him down. Still flowing with emotions left unsaid. 

_ _ _ _

The Church told the world and priests that vampires were soulless creatures sent from Hell to eradicate humanity. On this they were correct. Michael had seen it first hand. Yet the poets and authors of ancient times wrote of the eyes in a close, but far more believable way. They stated that the eyes are the windows to the soul. It was the one place humanity could not lie no matter how hard they tried. As Michael looked into the golden eyes of the vampire Jude he could see his soul. Burned, broken and bruised, but still there. The Queen could not take that from him. It was the soul of the man who desperately called out to him. And Michael would answer. Just as he always did.

_ _ _ _

Rage still swirled through the golden color as Michael repeated Jude’s name. But the closer he looked the more he could see. Hurt and desperation danced closely together. Threatening to over take rage on the golden irises. And yet, something else boiled under the surface that took Michael a moment to understand. Lust. After all this time and all that had happened, Jude still lusted after him. If Jude was not so angry then Michael would have pulled him closer and given in to his own lust by now. It was not until Jude snuck behind him that Michael realized just how much he missed Jude’s physical presence. He craved to feel Jude beneath him again their limbs wrapped together in a play for dominance that left both satisfied and sweat drenched still wanting more. It had been far too long since the two had been together and Michael was not about to let this opportunity pass again. Consequences be damned. 

_ _ _ _

“It makes no difference to me if you are human or vampire. Just leave them behind and come back to me,” Michael pleaded wrapping his hands around Jude’s neck. 

_ _ _ _

Despite himself, Jude lessened his grip and let him rest his feet on the ground. “I cannot return,” he muttered dropping his head. 

_ _ _ _

“I am not asking you to return to the church. Return to me, my Jude.” Taking Jude’s chin in his hand he raised his head to look him in the eyes once more. There it was. The old Jude with eyes swirling with emotions conveying everything Michael needed to hear without uttering a word. Testing the waters of his faith he leaned down placing a chaste kiss on the vampire’s lips.

_ _ _ _

Jude melted into Micheal's touch. It had been far too long since he felt the warmth of another’s embrace. It lit a fire in his belly that even the taste of blood could not quell. He wanted more of his Michael. No, he needed more of him. Jude returned the kiss, lost in the taste of his former lover. Michael's kiss was dangerous. Filling him with promise. Ideas of a life free of the Church and of the Queen. Their hands freely explored each other as if not a day had passed since their last time together as humans. The familiar rush of removing their clothing only stayed once they were bare. With more gentleness than Michael believed Jude possessed, he was laid down on the vampires dust covered coat. Unable to tear his eyes away from the golden gaze he wrapped his legs around Judge's waist as he slowly entered him.

_ _ _ _

The sensations were new and old mixing together as Jude thrust into him. He still knew just how to touch him. Each soft nip of fangs against his pale skin, the tight embrace pulling him closer pulled foley noises from Michael's lips that Jude relished in. He could feel Jude's finger tightening around his thigh as his thrusts came harder and deeper.

_ _ _ _

"Ah fuck Michael," Jude groaned.

_ _ _ _

"Don't stop," Michael whispered feeling his own climax coming close.

_ _ _ _

Taking several more violent thrusts the two spilled their climaxes in unison. Jude collapsed on top of his lover completely spent. All of the physical exertion with a lack of blood had finally taken its toll on the vampire.  _ If I am to die here then it is well worth it,  _ Jude thought pulling out of Michael and curling into his heat.

_ _ _ _

“Jude? Jude?” Michael called out trying to raise his vampire.

_ _ _ _

“Hmm?” he asked sleepily.

_ _ _ _

“Come with me.”

_ _ _ _

“I can’t Michael. This will truly be our last mission,” he muttered burying his face into Michael’s neck.

_ _ _ _

A sudden realization dawned on him. Jude was about to die. Again. He could not let that happen. Losing him once was bad enough. He could not bare to live through that again. Stretching as far as he could, he reached back to his discarded robes and pulled out a blade. In one swift movement he made a shallow cut on his wrist. 

_ _ _ _

“Jude,” he called out tossing the blade aside.

_ _ _ _

Jude immediately jerked his head up at the familiar scent. “Michael,” he moaned. 

_ _ _ _

“Take what you need. Come with me.”

_ _ _ _

A ravenous hunger filled his golden eyes. “I will come with you. And you will be mine,” Jude growled dragging his tongue against the open wound. 


End file.
